Accusations and Consequences
by Paschka
Summary: Problems arise after Charlie's return
1. Chapter 1

Hi all, here's my next story. I had a lot of trouble with this one, namely the plot or lack thereof, so I'm a little worried!

Anyway, as usual, I've taken some liberties with how real life works. This story is AU, and a continuation of my other two stories.

CHAPTER ONE

Don rushed through the doors of the FBI building and hurriedly flashed his ID to the guards before zooming through the metal detectors and into the elevator. He was horribly late for work, and to make it worse, he had a very active case-load that the Director was demanding updates on every five minutes or so. Something that would be pretty hard to do when Don wasn't at his desk, where he was supposed to be.

The elevator opened and Don rushed through the bullpen to his desk.

"Boss!" Colby said, conspiratorially motioning him over to his desk.

Don sighed and walked over.

"The Director came by your desk twice," Colby whispered. "I told him you were in the bathroom and then that you went for coffee, which-" he motioned to Don's empty hands "I probably should have called to let you know. Anyway, he's going to come back down any minute now."

"Thanks, Colby," Don said. "I don't think I've ever been this late in my life."

"It's nearly noon," Colby agreed.

"It's nine thirty," Don corrected with a slight snort.

"Close enough," Colby said with a shrug.

"The power went out after that thunderstorm last night and I guess I didn't reset the alarm and there was construction on the road…" Don threw his arms up helplessly.

"And the dog ate your homework?" Colby helpfully supplied. "Don't worry about it; I don't think the Director realized you weren't in."

"Where's David?" Don asked, looking around at the empty desks of his team members.

"Uh, coffee?" Colby suggested.

"Are you the only one here today?" Don demanded.

Colby sheepishly looked over at Don and shrugged. "Yeah. But y'know, it was a pretty good storm…"

"That's no excuse!" Don exclaimed, then realized that was the very excuse he'd used a moment ago. Still, as team leader he had some privileges.

Colby grinned. "Oliver doesn't have an excuse. He's – and I quote – feeling quite ill today. Like he has been every other day since he started here. Seriously Don, it's time to cut him loose."

"How many times do I have to say it, Colby," Don said with a dangerous tone to his voice. He wasn't in the mood to argue about Oliver Murphy and his lax schedule adherence. It technically was none of Colby's business either. All Don had heard from Colby and David since Oliver had started was complaints and he was getting tired of it.

Colby held his hands up in defeat. "So anyway, I've been looking through surveillance videos all morning, and I'm nearly blind. Do you mind if I go for a coffee run?"

"No, that's fine," Don said wearily. "Bring me something, would you?"

"Sure, no problem." Colby locked his computer and wandered off in the direction of the elevators.

Don sat down at his desk and eyed the overflowing in-box. Paperwork was his least favourite thing to do, and lately it had seemed there was a never-ending influx of it. It hadn't helped that he currently had two high-profile cases, and the media had been on their case about unsolved crimes ever since the multi-billion dollar fraud case that had come their way and was still unsolved. Thanks to Charlie. Don shook his head in frustration. His younger brother had also been the cause of much tension in the office, particularly between Don and the new Director.

After Charlie's return home three months previous, Jane MacRooney with Fraud Cases had wasted no time in getting Charlie a special grant to work on the fraud case with her team, despite Charlie's lack of security clearance. However, when the case wasn't miraculously solved within a few hours, the Director and those in power above him had blamed Charlie, who in turn had walked out after a spectacular argument with the Director and his boss. He refused to come back until the Director apologized, and unfortunately for Don, the Director seemed to think Don should be able to convince his younger brother to return as a favour to him. Which was so never happening. And certainly not after a few threats from the FBI towards Charlie. Charlie didn't do well with blackmail.

Don picked up a file folder and leafed through it for a moment before resolutely setting it back in his inbox. It would have to wait. He turned on his computer instead and logged into his email, scrolling down through the list to search for anything relevant. His phone rang and he absent-mindedly picked it up. "Eppes."

"Don, it's Jane MacRooney. Has the Director talked to you yet this morning?" Jane sounded anxious, and Don turned away from his email to give her his full attention.

"No, I just got in. What's up?"

"I'm going to come by and talk to you," Jane said before disconnecting the call.

Don looked at the receiver for a moment before slowly setting it down. This was not going to improve his day. With a sigh he picked up one of the file-folders and leaned back in his chair to await Jane MacRooney's arrival. She hurried over to his desk after a surprisingly short amount of time and sat down.

"What's going on?" Don asked curiously. Jane looked upset, and she was fidgeting with her hands.

"The Director is going to call you in to his office," Jane said quickly. "It's about the fraud case that Charlie was helping on."

Don groaned and shook his head. "I've already told them that there's nothing I can do to make Charlie help with that…"

"That's not it," Jane said. "There was a list made, by someone at INTERPOL."

"Ok?" Don said questioningly, not sure where the conversation was going.

"It's a list of suspects. People who have the skill and knowledge to be able to pull off something like this. Charlie's on that list."

"There must be thousands of people on the list," Don said dismissively. "And we've always known that Charlie has the ability to pull it off. We just know him better than that."

"Right," Jane said. "But some of the powers-that-be feel Charlie was less than cooperative with the investigation-"

"No one was giving him the chance to be cooperative," Don interrupted. "And threatening him was really not going to help matters. Charlie doesn't do well when people pressure him that way. He holds a grudge."

"I know, believe me," Jane said, shaking her head. "We know he had nothing to do with this because that's just not the type of person Charlie is. But they don't know that. And between Charlie losing his security clearance and this case just showing up months later… They've red-flagged him."

Don shrugged. "I don't know what they expect me to do about that."

"I think they want to bring him in for questioning. Officially."

Don couldn't help but laugh. "Really? They have no evidence of any sort. So what if Charlie has the capability of doing this? So do hundreds of other people. Are they expecting him to confess?"

Jane shrugged and looked at Don. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up, that's all."

"I appreciate it," Don said sincerely. "I guess…" He shrugged helplessly. "This is just a disaster."

"Tell me about it," Jane said, sounding chagrined. "I don't think I've ever wanted a case taken away from me before, but this is the one. Please, someone, take it away."

Don laughed. "Yeah, I can understand."

"And it isn't even necessarily the case itself," Jane complained. "It's the people working on it. The case came to me initially because there were one or two accounts that were affected, but then as we found more and more… well, by the time it was all done there were so many countries involved… and of course it's a career-making case, if you can solve it, so we've got every ambitious know-it-all from every government agency in the _universe_ trying to solve it, and it's just a disaster all around. Believe me when I say at the rate this is going, it is never ever going to be solved. And certainly not if they keep burning bridges the way they have been. We've had no fewer than six top-level consultants walk out on us now."

"Oh?" Don said, his interest piqued again. "Have they been red-flagged too?"

Jane nodded. "Yes. The thing is, we're not just bringing in some random person to consult. We're bringing in the best of the best, who know a thing or two about computers, banking systems, and math. Like Charlie. All these people technically would be able to pull something like this off if they had the resources and the time to invest in it. With the number of banks involved, it would take some time to crack their security algorithms, so…" Jane shrugged. "Charlie's problem is that he was MIA during that time, and hasn't come up with a good reason."

"He doesn't have to give his travel plans to the FBI," Don said with a snort. "Nor does he have to justify his whereabouts."

"I'm just saying he might want to look into getting a really good lawyer," Jane said. "This case has been dragging on for far too long. They want a scapegoat, and they don't care how they get him. Charlie needs to be careful."

Don frowned and looked at Jane. "But they have no case."

"No one cares about having a case," Jane said. "They care about the appearance of solving the crime. Bonus if we can retrieve some of the money."

Don shook his head. "That's crazy. C'mon, I've been working with the FBI for years now, I know how it works. Sometimes you've got to bend the rules a little, but we're pretty much talking framing someone for a crime when there is no evidence whatsoever that he's committed it. I'm really not going to stand by and watch my brother get thrown in jail over this."

Jane shrugged and nodded. "I need to get going. I just wanted to give you a heads up, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," Don said thoughtfully, watching her stand and walk away.

Don leaned back in his chair and ran both hands through his short hair. For perhaps the hundredth time since Charlie had come back, he wondered if it had maybe been better if his brother had stayed away. Because Don knew Charlie was guilty. The FBI and INTERPOL and whoever else was right in taking a closer look at his little brother. And Don didn't know how he was supposed to defend Charlie, protest his innocence when he _knew_ it wasn't the truth. Should he just take a step back, and let Charlie handle this himself? But wouldn't that just make Charlie look more guilty, if his own brother didn't believe he was innocent?

And Don didn't know if he was a good enough actor to make everyone believe that he trusted Charlie. Because he didn't. And he hadn't in months.

Ever since Charlie had returned three months before, there had been a tension in the house, with Charlie on one side, and Don and his father on the other. Things were pleasant enough. There were no loud arguments, or disagreements, or complaints. But there was an underlying sense of discomfort, especially between Charlie and Alan. Their father had never been told where Charlie was, and Charlie had done his best to explain his need to disappear. But since he couldn't tell Alan the truth, and Alan could see through any lies, Alan wouldn't let it go. After numerous attempts at trying to get the complete story out of Charlie, Alan had resorted to giving him the cold shoulder. He had even been looking for apartments or condos to move into. Things hadn't improved when Anna had moved in. Alan had been polite, but refused any attempts by either of them to mend the rift. It didn't help matters that Charlie and Anna had started to mostly speak French around the house when they didn't want to be overheard. Don, meanwhile, found himself checking up on everything Charlie was doing. He didn't believe Charlie when he said he was going to CalSci, or wherever else. He'd even put a tracking device in Charlie's cell phone and on his car and kept it activated at all times. He knew that he was being a tad paranoid, but he didn't know what his brother was up to, and he didn't trust Charlie to stay out of trouble.

Because Charlie was a liar and a thief, who had wittingly transferred hundreds of thousands of dollars into a terrorist organization's bank accounts. And Don wasn't entirely sure if he could forgive Charlie for that. He understood that there were extenuating circumstances, that Charlie perhaps didn't really have a choice in the matter. But that didn't excuse it. Don shook his head and ran his hands through his hair again and watched Colby and David come out of the elevator.

"Morning, Don," David said somewhat sheepishly. "Some storm, huh?"

"Yeah," Don agreed, suddenly not feeling very talkative. "You two can work on your own for a little while? I'm about to get called in to the Director's office."

"Yeah, sure," David said. "We'll follow up on some leads, and we've still got that footage to go through."

"I'm about half-way through the tape," Colby told them. "But yeah, there's still a few hours left, and that's on fast-forward."

"Anything we need to know about?" David asked with a nod in the direction of the Director's office.

Don shook his head. "Not yet. It's about Charlie, and that fraud case."

Colby grinned. "Oh, man. If they bring him in again, would you give me a heads-up? I'd like to have my camera ready."

Don shot him a withering glare. "Charlie's not going to help in the investigation," he said. "But that's not going to stop anyone from trying to bribe him to do so."

"And that's not cool," Colby said with a sobering look at David. "Of course. But c'mon, Charlie can take care of himself."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Don muttered as his phone rang. He picked it up and listened for a moment before hanging up again. "Well, we're about to find out what their next plan is."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Don took out his cell phone for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes and glanced at the display to check for missed calls. "Look," he said with an exasperated sigh. "Why don't I just let you know when Charlie calls back?"

FBI Director Paulson shook his head. "We would prefer to hear your conversation with your brother."

"Charlie's not under arrest," Don protested.

"Special Agent Eppes," Director Paulson began somewhat condescendingly. "You are well aware of the depth of this fraud investigation. You brother is a person of interest."

It took all of Don's self-control not to roll his eyes. "Can I at least bring my team in here so they can update me on progress they're making on our latest case?"

Paulson looked over at his CIA counterpart, Director Peters, who until now had been silent in the meeting. "Of course," Peters said with a nod. "All we're trying to do here is contact your brother to clear up some…inconsistencies."

Don flipped his phone open and speed-dialed Colby, advising him to bring his case files in to the conference room. Colby and David arrived moments later with notepads and file folders in hand.

"What's going on?" Colby asked, sitting down.

"Director Paulson asked me to get in touch with Charlie," Don told him. "But I had to leave a message, so while we're waiting for him to call back I thought we'd go over the case."

David and Colby looked at each other dubiously and spread their paperwork around the table. They didn't have a chance to get started before Don's cell started ringing. Don looked at it in surprise. It was Charlie.

He flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

"Don? It's me," came Charlie's hurried response. He sounded slightly out of breath and like he was walking.

"Hey, thanks for returning my call. Listen, do you think you can come by the office?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "Hold on a second," Charlie said.

Don waited patiently as Charlie covered the phone with his hand and spoke to someone he was with. It sounded like a woman, Anna perhaps, though the voices were too muffled. "Sorry," Charlie said a moment later. "You want me to come in to the office?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"It's not that I mind, Don. Do you need my help with something? Maybe you can just send it to my laptop…"

"I don't really need you help with anything; it's just the fraud case…" Don glanced over at Paulson and Peters who were watching him with interest.

"Can't really help you with that," Charlie said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "And anyway, I'm in Prague."

"You're in Prague?" Don repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, I told you I was going, like twenty times. Anna's with me."

"What are you doing in Prague?" Don asked, ignoring Charlie's exasperated sigh.

"I had a conference to go to. UN, if you need to know. Some people still appreciate my help with things."

"Whatever, Charlie."

"So, if you don't actually need my help, why do you need me to come in?" Charlie asked. There was a slight suspicion to his tone, Don noticed. Charlie knew he was a suspect.

"The CIA and the FBI want to ask you some questions," Don admitted.

It was silent on the other end for a few moments. Then muffled voices again. Charlie was telling Anna something. Her reply was laughter, and that really annoyed Don.

"Look, Charlie, it's not funny," he snapped.

"Yeah, I know that, thanks," Charlie replied. Irritated again. "Did they ask you to call me?"

"Yeah."

"Was the intent to ambush me, Don?" The tone was accusing. Don was furious, but he knew he needed to keep it civil for the benefit of the others in the room. Charlie didn't have the right to be angry, and certainly not angry at Don.

"No, I-"

"Who is with you in the room?" Charlie interrupted.

"Director Paulson, and the local Director of the CIA, Peters."

"Give the phone to Peters."

"Charlie…"

"Just do it, Don," Charlie snapped, angry. "And don't do that again."

Don handed the phone to Director Peters, who took it with mild surprise.

"Doctor Eppes," he began before being interrupted. "Yes, Doctor Eppes, the CIA-"

Don watched and couldn't help being a bit pleased with the rant Charlie was currently unleashing on Director Peters. The man was trying to interrupt a few times with no success, and finally just handed the phone back to Don. "He hung up," he said with a slight smile. "Doctor Eppes does not appreciate the way we are handling this investigation."

Don couldn't help but laugh, his anger at Charlie momentarily put aside. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"Is he coming in?" Paulson asked.

"That's a no," Peters said. "He's out of the country, for one thing. And he's made it clear he feels we're harassing him with this case. We're to contact his lawyer from now forward."

"His lawyer?" Paulson said with a frown. "Does he have something to hide that would require a lawyer?"

"He's a very busy man," Peters said with a slight smile. "Apparently he doesn't have the time to deal with incompetence. Or so he said."

"Did he leave his lawyer's name?" Paulson asked, casting an irritated glare at Don, who returned it.

"Her name is Kate Angeles. She'll be contacting me shortly," Peters said. "Doctor Eppes and I have worked together in the past, and he feels the CIA is better equipped to handle the investigation into him. He would prefer the FBI stop handling it immediately."

"Does he," Paulson scoffed. "It's a good thing we don't ask criminals how they want their investigations handled."

"Charlie is not a criminal," Colby said angrily before Don had a chance to respond.

"Thank you, that will be all for now," Paulson snapped.

Don stood and after the cursory 'let me know what else I can do's' the team left the conference room.

"Awesome," Colby said gleefully as he sat down at his desk. "Totally awesome."

Don threw a mild glare in his direction and sat down at his desk to check his emails.

He had barely gotten through five of them when the elevator opened and Marjolie Cooper strolled out. She looked around the room uncertainly for a moment before spotting Colby and walking over to his desk.

Don watched carefully. Marjolie had been a girlfriend of Charlie's some years back, and in the last few months, she and Colby had been dating off and on. Marjolie, as it turned out, was a high-maintenance girl. Colby very much was not. Their personalities clashed quite a bit, and Colby complained to Don that Marjolie talked about Charlie far more often than he liked. At the same time, when it was going well, it was going very well.

Still, Don kept his eye on them just in case objects were going to be thrown. After a few minutes of heated whispered conversation, Colby and Marjolie came over to Don.

"Do you have a second?" Colby asked.

"Sure," Don said, moving some folders around on his desk to pretend he'd actually been working instead of spying. "What's going on?"

Marjolie sat down in one of the chairs Colby had hastily rolled over. "Is Charlie in some kind of trouble?" she asked, getting right to the point.

Don frowned in surprise. "No, why?"

"I think I'm being followed," Marjolie said. "These men keep showing up everywhere. Just like the time Charlie and I were in Europe. They show up at the barn, at my house, when I'm out..." she shrugged and looked over at Colby. "I'm getting a little scared."

"Has anyone tried to talk to you?" Don asked. "Asked you any questions?"

Marjolie shook her head. "No. They keep their distance and seem to think I don't see them." She rolled her eyes. "As if the big black SUV isn't a dead give-away."

Don couldn't help but laugh quietly. "Ok. Well-"

"I tried to call Charlie, but he wasn't home," Marjolie interrupted. "So I left a message with your father, and one on Charlie's cell."

"Oh, ok," Don said, glancing over at Colby, who didn't look pleased with that revelation. "When did you call him?"

"Just before I got here," Marjolie said. "While I was driving. I just thought I'd come somewhere safe. I have a few days off, so…"

"Without them having approached you, there isn't too much I can do," Don began. "But I do want to take this very seriously. Sometimes Charlie annoys the wrong people…"

"You mean pisses off the wrong people?" Marjolie said with a quick laugh. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Don agreed. "So just in case this is one of those times… Why don't you go get some coffee down the hall," Don made a vague motion with his hand in the direction of the coffee. "And Colby and I will figure something out."

Marjolie nodded and stood. "Either of you want anything?"

"No, we're good," Colby said, watching Marjolie disappear down the hallway. "Of _course_ she called him first," he seethed. "You know, there is something _really_ wrong about her obsession with Charlie."

Don couldn't help but laugh at Colby's outraged expression. "Come on, you know Charlie doesn't-"

"Yeah, _Charlie_ doesn't have a problem with me dating her, because _Charlie's_ moved on with Anna," Colby muttered. "Ugh. Anyway. What do you think?"

"We can't do anything officially," Don said. "I'm thinking the FBI or the CIA or whoever has been going over Charlie's bank records. He's bought Marjolie some seriously expensive things-" he ignored Colby's irritated huff. "So I'm thinking they're the ones tailing her in case she's some sort of spy or something. So we'll have to handle this diplomatically."

"I have some vacation days saved up," Colby said. "How about I take those and just hang out with her? Keep an eye on those guys."

Don nodded. "That's what I was hoping you'd want to do. I'll ask Charlie… Actually, he's probably not going to answer my calls anyway, so…" Don shrugged. At the moment he didn't care.

"What's going on with you guys?" Colby asked carefully.

"Nothing," Don muttered.

"Since he's come back you two haven't been the same."

"Eight months away will do that," Don said wryly. "And it's Charlie, not me."

Colby rolled his eyes. "Yeah, except not. You're both just as stubborn, you know. And you aren't cutting him any slack on anything."

"I shouldn't have to," Don replied. "Do you realize how difficult the Director is making things for me ever since this whole thing with Charlie blew up?"

"Just about as difficult as for David and me, I guess," Colby said smoothly. "We've both noticed that people seem to be _checking_ on us an awful lot lately. Like we're hiding a couple billion dollars in the bank." He snorted derisively. "As if. Would I still be here if I had been an accomplice? I'd be _rich_. Of course I wouldn't be here."

Don laughed at Colby's exasperated expression and picked up his phone as it started to ring. He put it back down a moment later. "Director wants to see me."

"Alright," Colby said, standing and walking to his desk. "I'll put in my request for time off."

Don walked up the stairs to the Director's office and was waived right in by the secretary. Director Paulson was seated behind the desk, and Director Peters was sitting in one of the two empty chairs across from him.

"Have a seat," Paulson said. Don tried not to roll his eyes and sat down. Paulson had it in for him.

"Let me first say," Peters said quickly. "That this is with my objections. I don't believe there is a need for it."

"Well thank you," Paulson said somewhat snidely. "Special Agent Eppes, due to your brother's involvement with the current fraud case-"

"My brother has no involvement in the current fraud case," Don interrupted.

"That remains to be seen," Paulson said. "He's a prime suspect, regardless, so, because this office is primarily handling the case, I'm putting you on leave."

"You're putting me on leave?" Don repeated.

"Paid leave," Paulson said smoothly. "We want to be sure there is no chance of tampering-"

"_Tampering_?" Don repeated, getting to his feet. "Tampering? What in the world makes you think I would tamper with anything relating to this case?"

"It's your brother," Paulson said with a shrug. "We'd all probably do some stupid things to protect family."

"This isn't my case, I don't have access to the evidence, I don't even know anything about the case, except what's been said on CNN and every other news agency," Don argued. "And you have no _evidence_ against Charlie."

"That's not entirely true," Peters said, ignoring the glare from Paulson. "There have been some developments in the case."

"What kind of developments?" Don asked, sitting back down.

"We can't discuss that with you," Peters said apologetically. "And it's all fairly circumstantial, to be honest. It will probably lead nowhere, but until it does, your Director feels it necessary to take extra steps to ensure the integrity of the case. Take a vacation."

"I don't want to take a vacation," Don muttered. "I have open cases."

"Those will be distributed to some of our other teams," Paulson said.

"David can take the lead-" Don said.

"David Sinclair and Colby Granger are also being put on leave," Paulson said. "Due to their friendship with Doctor Eppes. So is Lauren Allison, since she lives in the same house."

Don sighed and leaned back in his chair. "How long?"

"Until further notice," Paulson said somewhat gleefully. "Or until Doctor Eppes is no longer a suspect."

"Great," Don said, getting to his feet. "So it could be years."

"I'm sure a few weeks will be all," Peters said with an apologetic shrug. "We're checking into the new developments right now, it shouldn't be long before they're discredited."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Don walked into the house and irritably dumped his bag on the nearest chair. Alan came hustling out the kitchen door. "Don!" he said in surprise. "You're home early."

"Yeah," Don muttered moodily. "Thanks to Charlie."

"What happened?" Alan asked with a concerned frown.

"I've been put on leave because Charlie is a prime suspect in a case. So have Lauren, Colby and David."

"Charlie's a suspect in a case?" Alan repeated in surprise. "What case?"

"The one that's been on the news for months now," Don said. "Stupid case and stupid Charlie for not cooperating."

"Why is he not cooperating?" Alan asked.

"Because he's stubborn. And because he wouldn't tell them where he was at the time."

"This happened when he was away," Alan said, turning abruptly and walking back in the kitchen. Don heard the clanging of pots and pans. He shook his head and took a moment before following his father. The feud between Charlie and Alan had been getting on Don's nerves and he found it high time it ended. At least Don had a reason to be angry with Charlie; he knew what Charlie had done. Alan didn't have that excuse.

"Look, Dad, you need to give it a rest with that already," he said, watching his father rummaging through the fridge. Don sat down at the table. "Charlie can't tell you where he was."

"He told you," Alan said evenly.

"Some," Don admitted. "He traveled a lot. People were after him, that's all you need to know."

Alan looked at him with narrowed eyes. "That's not all I need to know, thank you."

"Colby and David and Marjolie are joining us for dinner, if that's alright," Don said, changing the subject for now.

"Marjolie is coming over?" Alan asked, brightening immediately. "That's wonderful. We'll have to make sure she and Charlie sit next to each other."

Don bit back a laugh. "Charlie's in Prague with Anna," he said. "Didn't you know that?"

"No, I didn't," Alan said, closing the fridge. "He doesn't tell me anything. Of course that _woman_ is with him. She's the cause of all this."

Don rolled his eyes at that. Alan had been determined to blame the rift between him and Charlie on Anna, despite the fact that Anna had been nothing but kind and pleasant since she had come. Alan was determined to get Charlie back with Marjolie, who he considered to be a far better choice.

"Marjolie is with Colby," Don reminded his father.

"Right, of course," Alan agreed. He sighed and sat down at the table. "I have been hard on him, haven't I?"

"A bit," Don agreed.

"Why is he in Prague?"

"UN conference." Don shrugged.

"Does he know he is a suspect?" Alan asked.

"Yeah. He was pretty much tipped off when I called him and asked him to come in for some questions."

"And?"

"And he was furious. He yelled at the Director of the CIA. And you know how he feels about Paulson."

Alan nodded. "When is he coming back?"

"I'm not sure. Never? He was pretty mad."

"I don't know what we're doing anymore," Alan said with a sigh. "I don't know why I'm having such a hard time accepting Charlie since he's come back. And I know I've been less than fair with Anna. I just don't understand either one of them."

Don fidgeted with his hands a little and debated telling his father the whole story. He felt that the main reason Alan and Charlie had been at odds was that Charlie was refusing to tell his father where he had been when he had disappeared for eight months. If he would just come clean, like he had with Don, it might go a long way towards healing their relationship. Then again, Alan didn't need to know all of the truth, because Don didn't want him having to deal with what Don himself was dealing with: the knowledge that Charlie was very guilty.

"Dad," Don said seriously. "When Charlie disappeared, it was because some terrorist organization had put a price on his head. People wanted him dead."

Alan looked over at him with a frown. "They wanted him dead?"

"Yes. Because he had helped the NSA or whoever catch some of the members of the organization." Don frowned slightly trying to keep the names out of the story. "Charlie went to Spain for a bit with some team members."

"Team members?"

"Yes, he works with some people on a fairly regular basis on decoding and things like that. They went to Spain and then to Italy, and finally to South Africa. He was on the run, that's all Dad. He didn't contact us because he didn't want us to become targets, and he couldn't come back until he could be sure it was safe."

Alan nodded and stood again to rummage through some cupboards. "I assumed it was something like that," he said. "I'm not surprised. But I have been going through scenarios. He's come back fairly unharmed, and seems perfectly fine, but I'm angry with him. Because I was so worried, and that doesn't seem to bother him."

Don nodded and couldn't argue in Charlie's defense. They had been over this exact conversation a dozen times or more since Charlie's return, and still they didn't seem able to get past the rift. It was easy to blame it all on Charlie, but Don was beginning to see that it was not all Charlie's fault, that he and his father were nearly as much to blame for it all.

* * *

"So, David, any plans for our unexpected vacation?" Colby asked later that night as they sat around the dinner table.

David shrugged and shook his head. "Nope. You?"

"Nope," Colby said in reply, serving himself another plate full of pasta. "A road trip maybe."

Marjolie looked over at him with a frown. "Seriously?"

Colby shrugged and grinned. "Why not? It could be nice."

Marjolie looked at him dubiously, then shrugged. "I suppose."

"I can't believe they insisted I leave my laptop behind," Lauren groused.

Don couldn't help but laugh and shake his head.

"Yeah, you're laughing now," Lauren said, pointing her fork at him. "Just wait until they take a look at them and discover your little spyware."

Don looked confused for a moment. "Spyware?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Lauren said, taking a bite of the garlic bread.

"But the rest of us don't," Colby said eagerly.

"Don put a tracker on Charlie's cell and car," Lauren said, ignoring Don's deadly glare. "He's been stalking his own brother."

"Have not!" Don exclaimed. "I was just being cautious."

"And, is he really in Prague?" Alan asked.

"I don't know, I never got a chance to check," Don muttered. "Anyway, he's better off in Prague for now. Better than here, where the Feds could swoop in and arrest him any minute."

That earned a snort of laughter from both Colby and David. "You know we're the Feds, right?" David said. "We're the ones doing the swooping."

Don shrugged. "I suppose."

"It's not really us," Lauren objected. "It's the CIA, and Director Paulson. That man has had it in for Charlie the entire year he's been in our office. And it wasn't warranted in any way. Charlie was perfectly polite to him when they met and when he first started helping out on the fraud case."

"Polite or condescending?" Don asked. "He does both really well."

Lauren rolled her eyes at him. "He was being polite, until Paulson was rude to him. Then he became condescending pretty fast. And yes, he does do that very well."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Maybe I should call him," Don said thoughtfully. "Tell him to stay in Prague."

"Won't that make him look guilty?" Alan asked doubtfully. "Wouldn't it be better if he just came in and answered their questions? They can't have any hard evidence against him, can they?"

"I really don't know what they have," Don said. "But it must be something, or we wouldn't all have been put on leave. They wouldn't just do that for nothing."

"But Charlie's innocent," Marjolie said. "What could they possibly have if he's innocent?"

Don's reply was cut short by the shattering of their front window, and a hail of bullets cutting through the room. He dove for cover under the table, pulling his father down with him.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"What was that?" Colby demanded breathlessly, picking himself up from the floor where he had been shielding Marjolie from the flying glass and wood splinters. He was careful to stay somewhat out of sight of the front of the house.

"Anyone hurt?" Don asked, shaking glass out of his hair.

Everyone replied in the negative, and Don took stock of the damage. The living room had been reduced to bullet-riddled chaos, with holes in the walls and shattered glass. There wasn't an inch of it without some damage. He took a moment to mourn the cabinets and furniture, then shook his head. "I don't think they meant to hit anyone," he said, getting to his feet.

"Don!" Alan exclaimed from where he huddled under the table, "Get down!"

"They're gone, Dad," Don said. He could hear the sounds of police sirens already approaching. That was fast.

"How do you know they didn't mean to hit anyone?" Marjolie asked, shakily getting to her feet with Colby's help.

"They were shooting pretty high," David said. "And with the curtains open they would have easily been able to see us. If they had wanted to hit us, they would have. They definitely used enough bullets."

There was the sound of screeching tires in front of the house, and the sirens were ridiculously loud. Don rolled his eyes. If the shooters had still been in the area, the sirens certainly would have scared them off by now.

"I'll go take care of the LEO's," David said, motioning to the front door.

"Here, Dad," Don said, helping his father to his feet and guiding him toward a chair. Alan was pale and a bit too shaky for Don's liking. Not that he wasn't shaking himself. That had come out of nowhere, and had scared the daylights out of him. Don turned to look for Lauren, who had gotten to her feet as well and was brushing off her skirt. The remains of their dinner were all over the floor.

"Are you ok?" he asked, touching her arm lightly.

She smiled bravely. "None the worse for wear, darling. You?"

"Fine," Don said, relieved that everyone appeared to have survived without a scratch. Whoever had shot at them definitely had meant to miss. You don't fire that many bullets and _not_ hit your target once.

The next few hours were spent being interviewed by the local police, then again by the FBI, and having to sit and watch the CSIs roam through the house and the surrounding property looking for evidence and collecting a few hundred bullets and shell-casings. It appeared they were shot at from the comfort of a car. Mrs. Jones across the street had seen a dark SUV parked in front of the house for a few minutes before the shooting had started. Once it had begun, however, she had been smart and hid in her house. She hadn't taken note of a licence plate, nor was she sure what make or model of car it was.

The police gladly handed over the case to the FBI, and they in turn assured Don they would make the case their number one priority. In the mean-time, they would need to find another place to stay, as the house was a crime-scene for now.

Don didn't want to let his father or Lauren out of his sight. The small group agreed to meet at Colby's apartment in an hour to figure out what to do next. Don, Lauren and Alan packed a few things and hung around the house for a little bit before setting off in Don's SUV. They were the last to arrive at the apartment.

"Any ideas?" Colby asked. It was clear the shooting had been the topic of conversation between himself and David and Marjolie, and Don didn't doubt they had a few theories.

Don shook his head. "Charlie?" he said. "Maybe, I don't know. He's _supposed _to be in Prague. He's not supposed to be doing anything dangerous. But I don't see any other reason why someone would shoot up the house."

"But if they could see us, they would have known Charlie wasn't there," Marjolie said. She was curled up on Colby's couch with a blanket wrapped around her. "But if someone is after him again, it would explain why someone's been following me."

Don took out his cell and dialed Charlie's number. After a few rings it went to voicemail. "Charlie, call me as soon as you get this," Don said abruptly before hanging up. He glanced at the clock. It was 10 pm. What time did that make it in Prague? 4am? He flipped open his phone again and left Charlie another message.

"Are you going to keep calling until he answers?" Lauren asked with a smile, sitting down beside Marjolie.

"That's the plan," Don said, dialing the number again.

"What?" came Charlie's groggy response.

"Charlie? It's Don." Don said, caught slightly off-guard that his brother had actually answered the phone.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Charlie demanded, not sounding very awake. "What's wrong?" he asked a moment later. "Is Dad ok?"

"Yeah, Dad's fine. Your house on the other hand…"

"What happened?" Charlie asked, sounding somewhat panicked.

"Someone shot up the house, Charlie. No one's hurt," Don added quickly. "But the damage is pretty extensive. Are you really in Prague?"

"Yes I'm in Prague," came the indignant response. "Hold on a second." The phone was put down for a moment and Don could hear movement and muffled voices. He tried to make out the conversation between Charlie and who he guessed was Anna. He couldn't make anything out though, and a moment later Charlie had picked up the phone again. "Where are you?" Charlie asked breathlessly.

"At Colby's for now," Don replied.

"Who's with you?"

"Uh, Dad, Lauren, David, Colby and Marjolie," Don said. "You should probably know that someone's been following Marjolie," Don added.

There was another moment of silence and Charlie muttered a few words that were not in English.

"Charlie?" Don questioned.

"Yeah, hold on, I'm thinking," Charlie replied. "I don't know who… I'm in Prague, Don, really. We haven't worked any projects since I've been back."

"Ok, well, I don't think it's someone that's after me," Don said slowly. "What point would there be of following Marjolie around?"

"What about Colby?" Charlie asked. Don could hear muffled voices in the background. Anna was talking to someone.

"I suppose someone could be after Colby because of the whole Chinese thing," Don admitted. He looked at Colby, who was shaking his head adamantly. "Hold on a second." He lowered the phone and looked at Colby questioningly.

"Don, that was more than a year ago," Colby said. "I doubt very much that they're after me _now_, after all this time."

Don nodded and held the phone up to his ear again. "Colby doesn't think it's anyone after him," he reported.

"Ok," Charlie said uncertainly. "Ok, I'm going to check around on a few things, and I'll call you back, ok? Maybe you could all stay put for now? Until we know what's going on? At least don't let Dad out of your sight."

Don could hear the worry in Charlie's voice. "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem. I've been put on leave. We all have been because of the whole fraud case thing."

"Oh," Charlie replied, suddenly sounding careful. "I'm sorry. I'll call you back." Charlie hung up the phone and Don stared at it a moment before closing it.

"What did he say?" Alan asked. "Is he ok?"

"Of course he's ok," Don snapped. "He's not the one who got shot at. He swears he's in Prague and hasn't a clue who would shoot up the house."

"You don't sound like you believe him," Alan accused.

Don shrugged. "I believe him. At least about the Prague part. I don't know what to think at the moment, really." He dropped down onto the couch beside Lauren. "This is a bit unbelievable. Someone just shot up my _house_."

Everyone was silent for a few moments. "We should call a hotel or something," Lauren said. "We'll need a place to stay for a few days, and we can't exactly all stay here."

"You're welcome to," Colby offered. "But it will be a bit crowded."

"Charlie wants us to stay together," Don said, jumping slightly when his phone rang. He answered it.

"Everything still ok?" Charlie asked worriedly on the other end.

"Yeah, we're all fine," Don answered testily.

"Good. I'm not exactly sure how secure this line is, with everything that's going on," Charlie began. "I'm sending two people to pick you all up and take you to a safe house, just until we can figure out what's going on."

"You can't expect everyone to just drop everything and go to a safehouse," Don said.

"Don, I have no idea what's going on," Charlie said. "But I saw pictures of the house-"

"How did you see pictures of the house?" Don asked.

"Anna hacked the FBI database. Without knowing what's going on, any one of you could be the intended target, Don. You know that. Why not go somewhere safe? At least while we figure something out. I'm coming back on the next flight-"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Don interrupted. "It's got to be you they're after. Maybe it's safer where you are?"

"Yeah, except if they're listening in on our phone conversation, they will already know where I am," Charlie reminded him. "And that means I have to go somewhere. Anyway, I don't want to name names, but you remember some of the people I mentioned about when I was away?"

"Yeah," Don said.

"Good. They're coming to get you. Just sit tight for a bit."

The call was disconnected again and Don sighed. "They're taking us to a safehouse," he told everyone else.

"Who is?" Colby asked.

"Charlie's people," Don said with a shrug. "Until they figure out what's going on."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Don startled awake at the sound of knocking on the door. He glanced at the clock. It was 6am. Before he could get to his feet Colby had answered the door. He didn't even have time to ask the man and woman on the other side who they were before they breezed past him and closed the door. Don got to his feet.

"You must be Don," the man said, walking over and offering his hand. "I'm Jimmy Dean, this is Kate. We're Charlie's friends."

Don shook his hand and nodded. "Charlie's mentioned you," he said, speaking quietly to avoid waking anyone up. David had woken at the sound of the knocking as well, but everyone else was sound asleep.

"Good. Then you know we're the good guys," Jimmy Dean said brightly. "We don't have much time; we'd like to get you all into a safe location as soon as possible."

Don took a moment to inspect the two strangers who stood in front of him. Jimmy Dean was a blonde with an Australian accent. He was slightly taller than Don, and lanky in build, though Don suspected he was capable to beating just about anyone in the room in a fight. He was dressed casually in jean and a button-down, with a well-worn leather jacket over top. His eyes were bright and blue, and he was well-tanned, like he'd just come from a vacation to an island somewhere. It didn't look like a fake tan.

Kate was only slightly shorter than Jimmy Dean, and built slim but curvy. She was dressed in comfortable yet sophisticated clothes, and everything about her, from her long auburn hair to her low-heeled boots worn over jeans screamed expensive to Don. Her eyes scanned the room before meeting his, and she smiled. "You look nothing like your brother," she said, her accent slightly British.

"So I've been told," Don said with a shrug. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Jimmy Dean took out his cell phone, and dialed a number. "Talk to you brother," he said into it before handing the phone to Don.

Don took it and held it up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Don? It's Charlie. They're fine. It's Jimmy Dean and Kate. Just go with them." Charlie sounded hurried and like he was walking somewhere.

"Are you ok?" Don asked.

"Yes, fine. I'm trying to catch the train. Anyway, I don't have time to talk, but I'll see you soon, ok?" The call was disconnected and Don handed the phone back to Jimmy Dean.

"Alright then," he said with a nod.

It took less than half an hour for everyone to wake up, be introduced, and grab their already packed bags. Jimmy Dean insisted that everyone only bring one bag. Clothes can be bought, he insisted. Or washed.

There was a shiny red SUV parked outside and Kate unlocked the door and climbed in the driver's seat.

"Half of you in here," Jimmy Dean said, motioning towards the car. "I'll take yours and we'll follow." He held his hands up expectantly and Don gave him the keys to his car. "We'll be ditching this car pretty quickly though," Jimmy Dean continued thoughtfully as he did a quick sweep of the car and peeked under it. "There could be a tracer or something…"

Don snorted incredulously. "Why would someone…Never mind," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Nothing makes sense."

That earned a laugh from Jimmy Dean, who climbed into the driver's seat. "Get in already," he said. Don climbed in the passenger seat, while Lauren and Alan got in the back. David, Colby and Marjolie climbed in with Kate.

"You left you car unattended," Don pointed out. "Anyone could have come by…"

"It has a built in scrambler," Jimmy Dean said, starting the car and throwing it into gear. A few moments later they had turned away from the other car and were rapidly speeding down the street.

"Shouldn't we stay together?" Alan asked, sounding a little panicked in the back seat. He was holding onto the door as Jimmy Dean took a corner a little sharply. Don could swear they had ended up on two wheels for a moment there.

"It's better if we split up," Jimmy Dean replied. "In case we're being followed. We'll meet up again soon."

"Is Charlie meeting us somewhere?" Don asked.

"Maybe," Jimmy Dean replied shortly. "He's still in Europe. Probably will come back stateside, or we'll leave the country."

"I don't have a passport with me…" Alan said worriedly.

"That won't be a problem," was the wry response. "Don't worry about a thing."

"Right," Alan muttered. "I'll just sit here."

"Where are we going?" Don asked.

"You'll see."

"I really don't like-"

"Yeah, I got that," Jimmy Dean snapped in response. They were on a busy street now, and he flipped on the sirens with delight. "Awesome," he said.

"Yeah, you really shouldn't do that," Don muttered. He was really not liking not being in control. He watched in irritation as the cars in front of them moved out of the way.

Jimmy Dean's cell rang and he picked it up while steering the car and shifting with his other hand. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, then closed the phone and dropped it in the cup-holder. He skidded into a sidestreet and parallel parked behind another SUV. This one a lovely bright blue. "Get out," Jimmy Dean ordered, climbing out of the car himself, scanning the surroundings quickly, and then climbing into the other car. Don, Alan and Lauren followed.

"This is all very exciting," Lauren offered when they were on their way again. "I've never been out in the field before."

"Neither have I," Alan said. "And I'd just as soon not be."

Don tried to watch the streets as they flew by to get a sense of where they were headed. He'd driven through this city so often he was pretty familiar with most areas, but Jimmy Dean was taking so many turns and driving so fast, that he soon gave up and instead tried not to panic at Jimmy Dean's ridiculous driving.

"You're being pretty conspicuous, you know," Don told him. "With the driving."

Jimmy Dean dismissed him with a snort. "There's never any police around when you need them, really. You're more likely to be pulled over when you're driving one kilometer over the limit than 50. Besides, I'm well trained in tactical driving. No cop can catch me."

"Let's not test that theory, shall we?" Don said.

"You sound just like Charlie," Jimmy Dean said brightly. "He doesn't like my driving either, though he tends not to have any complaints when we're being chased."

"Does that happen often?" Alan asked from the backseat.

"No, not really," was the casual response. They slowed down as they drove through an industrial area. They were surrounded by warehouses and storage sheds, some looking fairly dilapidated. Some looked nearly new. A garage door opened soundlessly and Jimmy Dean drove into one of the warehouses. The door slid closed behind them. He drove further into the building, the way circling downward until they reached an underground parking lot. There were several cars parked; two were fast-looking sport cars, three were SUVs, one was a motorcycle. Kate, Colby, David and Marjolie were waiting for them. Jimmy Dean parked their car and they all piled out.

"Problems?" Kate asked.

"No," Jimmy Dean replied, motioning for the group to follow them as they walked to the elevator. Kate and Jimmy Dean walked fast, and Don didn't have a moment to take in their surroundings before they were ushered into an elevator. Kate pressed a hand against a scanner and a moment later the elevator hummed to life and began to go up.

"Just so you're all aware," Jimmy Dean said casually. "This is a very secure compound. From now on none of you is to go anywhere without my or Kate's consent. You're likely to get trapped somewhere if you try. You're not prisoners. It's just the way the building works."

"If you try to use the elevator without a hand-scan, it'll trap you between floors and release tear-gas until you pass out," Kate said with a pleased grin. "And then it calls one of us to clean up the mess."

Don couldn't help glancing around him at the innocent-looking walls of the elevator. "Great," he muttered.

"But at least you know no one can get in," Kate said helpfully.

"Unless they over-ride the security codes, I suppose," Jimmy Dean agreed. "Which is highly unlikely, seeing as Charlie's the one who created the security in this particular building."

"Charlie and me," Kate corrected. "The tear-gas was my idea," she informed David and Colby who were staring at her like she was some sort of superhero. "Charlie was going to be boring and just have it stall between floors."

Jimmy Dean's cell rang again and he answered it with a clipped "Yeah?" Don watched him as his expression changed from one of indifference to one of worry. "You're sure? Yeah, ok. Check in with one of us within the hour, would you?" He disconnected the call and dropped the phone into a pocket.

"Problems?" Kate asked casually.

"They're having a problem leaving Prague," Jimmy Dean said shortly.

"Charlie and Anna?" Don asked as the elevator dinged to a halt. The doors slid open to reveal a surprisingly tidy hallway lined with doors.

"Yeah, they'll be fine," Jimmy Dean said, leading them straight down the hallway towards the door at the very end. He swung it open to reveal a large office-like room, with windows over-looking the street on two sides, and several work-stations. A young man got to his feet and walked over, smiling cheerfully.

"Everything alright then?" he asked pleasantly with a Spanish or Italian accent.

"Peachy," Kate said in response. "Charlie and Anna are having problems in Prague."

The easy smile vanished instantly and the young man turned back to the computers he had just left. "They got on the train just fine," he said, shrugging and sitting back down. His hair was slightly long and tied back in a ponytail, and he was dressed almost a little too casual, with ripped jeans and a plaid shirt. "I've been jamming the security videos." His smile returned and he looked at the newcomers. "You must be Charlie's friends and family," he said with a quick wave. "I'm Michigan. I work with Charlie on occasion."

"Your name is Michigan?" Alan said dubiously.

"No, it's just what everyone calls me."

"I've seen you in one of Charlie's classes," Colby said.

Michigan grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Codebreaking. You must be Colby. Charlie was my professor before I was recruited." He shrugged and typed a few things into his computer. "I still take classes on down-time."

"So what do you do here?" Alan asked.

"Surveillance," Michigan replied as his computer buzzed at him. He picked up a headset and pressed a button. "Michigan. Speak. Oy, heard you're having issues."

Don listened and watched with interest as a map appeared on a giant screen on one wall, and a red line snaked its way across the screen.

"The train," Jimmy Dean told him as he walked up to the screen. Michigan was still talking in the background, and Don turned his attention back to the conversation.

"Uhuh," Michigan said as he typed away. "No, that's not a good plan. Yeah, Professor, but it's just going to get you in trouble once you're there. Uhuh." The map changed, this time zooming in and showing streets. "Yeah, turn left," Michigan was saying. "Left again. Right. There should be a rotunda, take the third. Yeah. You've got it? Ok." The map blinked off and Michigan took off his headset. "I'm practically an OnStar service," he muttered. "They're fine," he told the group in general. "Just trying to ditch some fans."

"I'll show you some rooms," Kate said cheerfully, but not before Don caught a meaningful look between Jimmy Dean and herself. Don suspected that all was not well at all.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Don awoke to a knock at the door, and he crawled out of bed sleepily to open it. Michigan was standing at the other side, looking bright and cheerful. "Good morning," he said with a pleasant smile. "It's noon. I had lunch brought in, so if you're hungry…"

"Uh, yeah, ok. Thanks," Don said, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"It's in the conference room. Same room you met me in earlier. Straight down the hall."

"Ok," Don said with a nod. He closed the door and irritably picked up his duffel bag. He couldn't believe he'd slept until noon. Granted, the previous night was eventful, and they hadn't actually gotten to bed until 8am, but he was feeling more than a little like someone that needed to be coddled. He was an FBI agent! He should be the one his brother called when he was in trouble. He shouldn't be the one who hadn't a clue what was going on and what to do about it.

The six of them had been given several rooms on the same floor they had originally been brought to. The rest of the building was off-limits for now. The room Don and Lauren had been given was comfortable; it contained a queen-sized bed, chairs and a table, and a complete bathroom.

Don woke Lauren and then headed for the shower. A good hour later, both of them left their room and headed down to the conference room. David and Alan were both there, as was Michigan, who was sitting at the same desk he had been when he'd first come in, looking at his computer screen. He looked up at Don and Lauren when they entered, and motioned to the conference table across the room. There were sandwiches, coffee and juice set up. David and Alan were already seated and eating their lunch. Michigan was talking on the phone, and turned his attention back to his computer screen. Don turned to the table and sat down beside his father.

"Where'd this all come from?" Don asked, pouring himself some coffee.

"Don't know," David said. "But it's good. I don't think anyone delivers to this neighbourhood."

Lauren laughed at that and popped a slice of cheese in her mouth. "Where are our hosts?" she asked.

David shrugged. "Michigan's the only one I've seen. But he's been on the phone and hasn't said a word to either of us."

"Michigan," Alan said with a snort. "A ridiculous name if I ever heard one."

"It's not his name, Dad," Don reminded him.

"So why not go by his real name? Charlie does."

"Maybe not normally," David said.

"Good morning everyone," Colby said as he and Marjolie joined them at the table. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure," Don said in response. "Michigan is ignoring us, and Kate and Jimmy Dean are nowhere to be seen."

The group ate silently for a good fifteen minutes before Michigan strolled up and refilled his mug of coffee. "Rooms alright?" he asked conversationally.

"They're lovely," Lauren answered for the group. "Any word on Charlie and Anna?"

"Kate and Jimmy Dean have gone to get them," Michigan replied with a shrug. "Nothing to worry about."

"I think I'll worry until Charlie gets here safely," Alan replied. "Do you live here or something?"

Michigan shook his head. "No. But hours can be long, so…" He shrugged and smiled pleasantly. "I don't think I've left the building in three days."

"Why, Charlie said he wasn't on a case?" Don said.

"Doesn't mean I didn't have anything to do," was the casual response. Don noted that Michigan sounded somewhat testy now. Like he didn't like being questioned.

"Any ideas when Charlie will get here?" Don asked.

"Nope." Michigan walked back to his desk.

Don shook his head in frustration. "I'm going to loose my mind," he muttered into his coffee.

The others laughed. "Seriously, Don," Colby said with a shake of his head. "Relax. These are Charlie's people. They know what they're doing."

"Most of the time," Don replied. "Doesn't mean he can't go and get himself killed."

They finished lunch, and after some meaningless chatter, Don left the table and walked over to Michigan, who sat behind his computer with his feet on his desk and keyboard on his lap. He was talking rapidly into his head-set in what Don assumed was Italian, and didn't stop or acknowledge Don when he sat down across from him. After ten minutes or so, Michigan disconnected the call and pulled the headset off.

"Anything you need?" he asked coolly.

"No," Don said. "Where's Charlie?"

Michigan shrugged. "We haven't heard from either of them since 10 or so this morning. We're assuming they're on their way."

"Assuming?" Don repeated. "That's not really reassuring."

"I didn't mean for it to be," Michigan replied.

"Is there something I can do?" Don asked. "I'm bored here, and I'm used to being the one in charge. I'm having a bit of a hard time sitting by and doing nothing."

"I noticed," Michigan said with a grin. "Look, the way it sometimes works is that they need to stay out of communication for a little while. They'll call. We can't do anything more than wait."

"What are Jimmy Dean and Kate doing?"

"Kate's at the airport. Jimmy Dean had some other business to take care of."

"What kind of trouble were they having in Prague?" Don asked.

"Anna was arrested on an outstanding warrant," Michigan said with a slight laugh. "It's not a big deal, really. Sometimes because of the work we do, the local police end up with a vague picture of someone and… well. It's never happened to Charlie or Anna before, because they're never really out in the field, but I guess… Charlie talked them into releasing her, and last I heard they were on their way to the airport. But the earliest they could arrive is probably 6pm, so I really wouldn't worry. Charlie can talk his way out of anything."

"You know my brother well, then?" Don asked.

Michigan shrugged and dropped his feet on the floor. "We haven't worked together much, to be honest, but he was my professor a few years back."

"He's the one that recruited you, then?"

"No. Well, sort of. He mentioned my name to some people, but recruitment isn't really up to him. But he's been really helpful to me in a lot of ways." Michigan shrugged. "You could say I was a little lost at one point in my life. Professor Eppes set me straight."

Don nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Michigan's phone rang and he motioned to it apologetically. "Sorry."

"No problem," Don said as he stood and wandered back over to the table. Maybe all he could do was wait for his brother to show up.

Three days later, however, he was still waiting. The group hadn't left the building once, and there were only so many games of chess and so many hours of reading one could do before becoming completely stir-crazy. Colby and David had even resorted to tread-mill races after being given access to a gym, with Lauren and Marjolie acting as race officials or worthy opponents, and Alan had leafed through nearly every book in the considerable library that was in the building.

Don had spent the time glaring at the clock and harassing Michigan for information. Jimmy Dean and Kate hadn't been by since dropping them off three days earlier, and despite the fact that Michigan assured Don that Charlie was fine, he wasn't able to give him any further information, which just didn't sit well with Don.

"Don," Alan said patiently as Don paced by him for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. "Would you sit down."

Don moodily dropped into the chair beside the one his father occupied. Alan put down the biography he was reading and looked at him. "What's on your mind?"

Don shrugged. "I don't like not knowing anything," he muttered. "I don't see why that's so hard for anyone to understand."

"I understand," Alan said. "But there isn't anything we can do about it at the moment so why not relax, or join David and Colby in whatever they're up to?"

Don glared over at David and Lauren, who were bent over a piece of paper and meticulously folding a paper airplane while discussing the engineering benefits of their construction. Colby and Marjolie were doing the same. They were having a race of some sort, and Don couldn't be more annoyed at what he considered juvenile behaviour.

"They'll probably need a judge of some sort," Alan said with a smile.

"Forget it," Don muttered. "It's like they're in kindergarten."

"They're just bored, like you are, and like I am," Alan admonished. "They're finding creative ways to pass the time, unlike your self."

Don snorted sullenly. "I don't see why we're still here. We should just go home. You realize the FBI is probably out looking for us? Since we've gone missing right after our house was shot to bits. Which is another thing. We should get started on the clean-up."

"As soon as they say it's safe for us to go home," Alan agreed, picking up his book again.

Don rolled his eyes. "We're prisoners, that's what. We're being held prisoner."

"You're free to leave," Alan said.

"No, I'm not. The lethal elevators will try to kill me," Don muttered moodily.

Alan laughed quietly. "We've been given access to several floors."

"Not the ground floor. You're awfully unconcerned about this."

"Because Charlie is fine. He was fine last time, he'll be fine this time."

Don shook his head. "He wasn't fine last time. He got shot last time, and almost died."

Alan dropped the book and looked at him sharply. "What?"

Don looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"He was shot?"

"Yes, but he's fine now," Don said quickly, trying to backtrack.

Alan got to his feet and rounded on Don, who squirmed in his chair. Everyone else had stopped what they were doing and were staring.

"You're telling me," Alan began sharply. "That my son, that _Charlie_ got shot the last time he disappeared and you have been choosing to keep this from me?"

"Dad," Don said awkwardly. "I didn't _choose_ to keep it from you, it was Charlie's-"

Alan shook his head and marched over to Michigan, who hastily dropped his feet from his desk and sat up straight. He was staring at Alan with slightly wide eyes.

"_Where_ is my son?" Alan demanded.

"Mr. Eppes-"

"Don't start with the excuses, young man," Alan snapped. "Where is he?"

"Cyprus," Michigan said quickly, casting an uncertain look at Don, who shrugged. He was more than happy to have someone else take the brunt of Alan's anger.

"And what, precisely, is my son doing in Cyprus?"

"Uh, I can't really…"

"_What_ is he _doing_ in Cyprus?" Alan demanded.

"He was asked to stop by and work on a project…" Michigan said vaguely. "I can't really tell you…"

"You could very well have told us," Alan said. "I don't need to know much more than that. I don't need to know the details of the project. You could have just said Charlie was in Cyprus working on a project even though we were told he was on his way here _three days ago_."

"Right, he was, but then they needed him. It happens sometimes. I'm not permitted to share information with you, Mr. Eppes. Really, I'm sorry."

"Is my son unharmed?" Alan asked, quieter.

"Yes, he's fine," Michigan said, nodding to prove his point.

"That's not what I asked. I asked if he was unharmed."

"As far as I know," Michigan said, "he is unhurt." He bit his lip slightly. "Why don't I try and get him on the phone? It will take a bit of time, but…"

Alan huffed and shook his head. "Why don't you do that? We've only been waiting for him for three days." He turned and sat back down beside Don.

"Dad," Don started.

"I don't really want to hear anything from you at the moment," Alan said shortly. "Of all the things to keep secret, Don. Really. I'm very disappointed and hurt."

"Dad," Don began again. "It wasn't my choice to tell you."

"I am well aware that you and Charlie team up to keep things from me," Alan said, angrily turning pages in his book. "So don't blame it on him. Though he's going to get a talking to as well."

Don nodded and decided it was wiser to stay silent for a little while.

"How badly hurt was he?" Alan asked after a good ten minutes of silence.

Don looked at him cautiously. "I don't know all the details. He didn't tell me much either. He was shot in the ribs," Don indicated the spot on himself. "And there was a minor graze to his head."

Alan closed his eyes and mumbled something quiet. "I see."

"But it wasn't serious enough to need a hospital stay."

"He didn't see a doctor?" Alan asked in surprise.

"Well, I'm guessing the team is pretty well versed in medical procedures, in case of emergency. I think Anna was the one that patched him up. Saved his life, probably."

"I see," Alan said with a nod. He looked at Michigan, who was talking rapidly into his phone in Italian. He seemed to have figured out that no one in the room could speak it.

They were silent for a moment, both watching the young man talking on his phone, occasionally typing something in his computer. He seemed young to be a spy. Or whatever he was. Don still hadn't quite figured out how to classify the agency that Charlie was a part of. It wasn't a US government agency, so could he really call them spies? They seemed to be more of a rogue agency, selling their services to the highest bidder. Was that criminal? Probably not. But Don couldn't help feeling a bit resentful of the money that was apparently funding this operation. He had to fill in mountains of paperwork to get the tiniest expense refunded by the FBI. For these people 5 star hotels and first-class flying seemed to be the norm. Don didn't even want to know how much they were each paid for their expertise. Except the big brother in him wanted to know just how much more money Charlie was making than him. He was the older brother, he was supposed to be more successful.

Michigan hung up the phone and walked over to Alan and Don.

"Were you able to get him on the phone?" Alan asked.

"Uh, no," Michigan admitted. "But he's on his way here, really. He should be here at some point within the next 24 hours."

"Good," Alan said. "If _anything _changes, you will let us know?"

"Of course," Michigan said, smiling cheerfully. "I'm leaving for a bit, I'll be back with dinner in a few." He cheerily walked out the door.

"I'm going to lay down for a bit," Alan said, getting to his feet and laying his book on the chair. "If I'm not back by dinner, come wake me, would you?"

Don nodded and watched his father leave the room. Regardless of the outcome of the next few days, he and his brother were going to have to have a talk, one that involved causing his family unnecessary worry and emotional turmoil. And he was determined that this time, Charlie would have to listen.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, Don was the first awake. He had showered and dressed before Lauren had even stirred, and he left the room and walked to the conference room. He wasn't expecting to see his brother sitting cross-legged on a sofa staring at a wall covered in equations. Jimmy Dean and Kate were also there, deep in conversation, huddled over a laptop, and Anna was sitting in a chair, watching Charlie. It was quiet in the room, and Don almost felt like an intruder. Almost.

"Charlie!" he exclaimed. "You're back." He walked into the room completely now, and ignored Jimmy Dean and Kate and Anna as they stared at him. Charlie was the only one who didn't look at him. He was looking at the numbers.

Don rolled his eyes at that. Leave it to his brother to be completely in the dark about the worry Don and his father would have been feeling.

Don stepped into Charlie's line of vision, blocking the numbers on the wall behind him. "Charlie?"

"Don," Charlie replied, looking up at him with a slightly confused expression. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Don't move. I really don't want to see those anymore." He motioned vaguely to the numbers behind Don, and Don shook his head.

"Are you at all aware that we might have been worried about you?" Don asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Why? I was fine," Charlie said, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Other than not having had enough sleep. I need to find a way to eradicate jet-lag."

That earned a snort of laughter from Jimmy Dean. "Bigger fish to fry, my friend," he said, locking eyes with Don and shaking his head slightly. He motioned to the conference table, where breakfast was set up. Don took the hint and walked over while Jimmy Dean excused himself and joined him.

"Now is not the time to confront Charlie about anything," Jimmy Dean said quietly. "He needs to solve that," he motioned to the numbers again. "That's the priority. I don't care about your feelings or those of your father."

Don couldn't help being mighty offended by that. "My feelings? My feelings are that I've been kept in the dark, and a virtual prisoner in this building. And Charlie's the one responsible for it."

"Maybe so, but if you don't let him work, I'll have you removed," Jimmy Dean threatened. "Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Don muttered. "What world-saving problem is he working on now?"

Jimmy Dean didn't answer him but watched as Charlie stood somewhat unsteadily and erased a set of numbers. He started scribbling new ones in its place. "You're his brother," Jimmy Dean said, looking back over at Don. "I get that you're angry, you're allowed to be angry, having been shot at and all. And yeah we aren't the most forth-coming people in the world." He ignored Don's eye-roll and continued. "But we could use your help."

"With what?" Don demanded incredulously.

"Keep your brother conscious and on his feet so he can solve that," Jimmy Dean said none too gently. "That's the objective of today, and maybe tomorrow, and possibly days after that. We don't kid around here. We need that solved. Everyone needs that solved. And we need it solved now. We needed it solved ten minutes ago. So you can probably figure out the kind of pressure he's dealing with. He doesn't need you added on to it."

Don frowned and looked back over at Charlie. Anna was standing beside him now, quietly talking, her hand on his arm, holding him up, Don suspected.

"Is he injured?" Don asked seriously.

"He's… Not well, at the moment," Jimmy Dean said. "Not injured. He's focusing. You've probably had to deal with Charlie when he's hyper-focused. It's not that easy sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," Don said dubiously. Charlie looked far too pale. "How long has he been working on this?"

"Two days."

"So he wasn't in Cyprus?

"Yes, he was. That's where they got him the code. He wanted to come here. And when he's working on something, Charlie gets what he wants. Luckily he's not too demanding," Jimmy Dean said with a wry grin. "Usually he wants Anna, and he wants coffee. That's it. It's up to the rest of us to make sure he doesn't die of dehydration and lack of food." He shrugged and turned to the table to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Anyway, you can run interference with your father?"

"Yeah, of course," Don said with a nod. "But wouldn't it be better if you let him get some sleep? A fresh pair of eyes and all that?"

"We don't have the time," Jimmy Dean said dismissively. "Not that he could sleep anyway. Too much riding on this."

Don poured himself a coffee as well and turned his attention back to Charlie, who was sitting down again.

"Anna could probably use some sleep right about now," Jimmy Dean suggested. "She's been up as long as he has."

Don nodded and poured a second cup of coffee for Charlie, then walked over and sat down beside him. He shoved the coffee in Charlie's hand. "Here," he said. "Drink this. Do you want something to eat?"

Charlie turned his head slightly to Don without taking his eyes off the numbers. "What?"

"Eat? What do you want for breakfast?"

"Nothing," Charlie said with a shake of his head. He cocked his head slightly as he stared at the numbers. "This doesn't make any sense."

"You'll figure it out," Don said before turning his attention to Anna. "Do you want to get some sleep? I'll stay with him for a while."

Anna nodded. "Ok. Thanks." She stood and left the room.

Don looked at the numbers in front of him and tried to extract some meaning from them. They were too jumbled though; math so advanced no one in the country could probably figure it out. Except Charlie.

Don turned to look at the door that had just opened, and watched Colby, David, Marjolie and Lauren walk in. He hurried over before any of them could come talk to Charlie.

"He's back!" Colby said with a pleased smile.

"Is he alright?" Lauren asked with a worried frown.

"No," Don said. "He's working on a code of some sort, and he's under a lot of pressure, so he's…" Don shrugged. "He needs to be left alone. I know you've all been looking forward to him getting here, but I need you to not talk to him."

"We can do that," Lauren said with a supportive smile. "Until he's ok to talk to us. He's ok, though, right? Physically?"

Don shrugged. "I don't know. There's something not quite right, but I don't know what it is. Is my dad up?"

"He'll be by in a few minutes," David, who was sharing a room with Alan, said.

"Great," Don said. "I'm going to go sit with him," he motioned to Charlie. Don left the group at the conference table to eat breakfast, and went back over to Charlie, who was standing now and running his fingers along the equations and occasionally shaking his head. Don hovered close by. Charlie just didn't seem that steady on his feet, and Don was worried he would fall over. Charlie tapped his fingers against a set of equations a few times, then erased them.

He stepped back again, staring at them with his head cocked slightly and his arms crossed. "Kate?" he said.

Kate jumped to her feet and was at his side in seconds.

"I need the Argentina book," he said, never taking his eyes off the numbers.

"It's at Headquarters, but I should be able to print you a copy of it," Kate said with a nod. Jimmy Dean had already picked up the phone. "It'll be a couple of minutes, ok?"

Charlie nodded and rubbed his eyes. "It's very familiar," he said. "But completely wrong."

"You'll figure it out, Charlie, you always do," Kate said, her hand on his shoulder supportively.

"Not every time," Charlie said with a shake of his head. He sounded exhausted.

"Charlie!" Alan exclaimed from the doorway. Don cursed himself for not having been paying attention, and he rushed over to Alan.

"Dad! Can I talk to you for a second," Don said hurried, sidetracking a determined looking Alan.

"Not right now," Alan said. "I need to talk to Charlie."

"Yeah, he can't talk to you right now," Don said forcefully, blocking Alan's path.

"Why not?" Alan demanded with narrowed eyes.

"Because he's working on that," Don said as he motioned to the numbers. "And he's under a lot of pressure. He probably hasn't slept in days, and you know how he can get-"

"All the more reason for me to talk to him," Alan said determinedly. "He can use the break."

"No, he can't. Look, Dad, I've been told we're to leave him alone or get kicked out, ok? Whatever we want to talk to him about can wait a couple of days."

"Kicked out?" Alan repeated.

"Yes, kicked out if we don't leave him alone. So, let's just be supportive for now, until he's done. Then we can yell at him."

"I wasn't going to yell at him," Alan said.

"Well I was."

Alan stepped past Don and up to Charlie, enveloping him in a hug. Charlie mostly ignored him and stepped around to write a new equation in place of the one he had erased a few minutes before.

Alan didn't look bothered by that, having long since gotten used to a focused Charlie. "He feels hot," he said with a worried frown, holding a hand on Charlie's forehead.

"I'm fine," Charlie said.

"Ah, so you do notice me," Alan said, hands on his hips. "And you do feel hot. Are you sick?"

"Nope, no time for that," Charlie said, erasing a second set of numbers.

"That's hardly going to stop an illness," Alan said, shaking his head.

"Dad, I can't listen to you right now," Charlie said, turning briefly to glance at him. "Please?"

"Ok," Alan said, holding his hands up in defeat. "I'm going to make you something to eat for breakfast though." Alan determinedly walked over to the conference table and set about gathering up something appropriate and easy for Charlie to eat.

Don walked over to Jimmy Dean and Kate, who were still sitting by a computer. Jimmy Dean had hooked the laptop up to a printer, and they were watching their email inboxes impatiently.

"What book was he talking about?" Don asked.

"Not really a book," Kate said. "More of a notebook. Charlie wrote it for a code he broke a while back. He thinks there's similarities, so he wants to see it again."

"Charlie has photographic memory when it comes to numbers," Don said. "He shouldn't need to see it."

"Well he wants to see it," Jimmy Dean snapped in return. "There it is," he said as the computer chimed to indicate a new email. He clicked on print, and Kate walked over to the printer to collect the pages. Jimmy Dean stood as well, having apparently gotten tired of sitting behind the computer. He walked the length of the room a few times. Don decided that wasn't very helpful to Charlie, but thought better of asking him to stop, so he sat down on the sofa and watched his brother. Lauren came and sat down beside him after a few minutes. Kate gave Charlie a stack of papers, and he held them in his hand while staring at the equations on the wall. Kate hovered beside him uncertainly.

After a few minutes Charlie actually looked at the papers in his hand. He shook his head after a few moments. "That wasn't what I wanted."

"That's the one from Argentina," Kate said as Jimmy Dean walked over also.

"I know," Charlie said with a nod. "I know. I just… This isn't what I wanted." He shoved the papers back at Kate, who turned to Jimmy Dean with an uncertain frown. He dropped down on the sofa and rubbed his eyes roughly. "Sorry," he said after a few minutes. "I'm not… I need to go take a shower or something."

"We don't have the time," Jimmy Dean said quickly.

"I know that," Charlie said. Everyone in the room had fallen silent now and was listening. "I just need to look at something else for a little bit. Fifteen minutes."

"You know what's at stake-"

"Yes, I know what's at stake!" Charlie snapped, getting to his feet again. "I've got the damn President on the phone every five minutes asking for a damn update. I'm aware of what's at stake." Charlie swore quietly under his breath. "I just need to breathe."

Don looked at his brother in surprise. Charlie never, ever swore; he considered it unintelligent. "Go then," Don said. "Take a shower, or a quick nap. Whatever you need to do. I'll speak to the President myself if I have to, to get him to back off."

Charlie looked at Don in surprise, as if he'd forgotten anyone else was in the room.

"Don," Jimmy Dean said, beginning to get angry.

"What?" Don snapped in return. "If he can't concentrate then it's no use to you anyway, right? If sleeping is going to help him function, then that's what he needs to do!"

"You don't understand-"

"I understand my brother!" Don replied, getting to his feet to confront Jimmy Dean and well aware this was entirely the wrong approach.

"So do I!" Jimmy Dean replied. "We've done this before. He can sleep when it's done."

"That's enough," Alan said angrily, stepping in between them with a plate-full of sandwiches. "Do either of you think this is helping the situation? You're making it more stressful for everyone involved. Charlie knows what he needs, so the two of you can let him make his own decisions. Now sit down and be quiet, the both of you."

Jimmy Dean and Don both glared at each other and Don took the first step and sat back down on the sofa. Charlie had turned back to the numbers and was erasing another set.

"Charlie?" Alan questioned. "Sit down for a minute."

Charlie ignored him and Don could feel the tension in the room ratchet up another notch. Everyone seemed uncertain of what to do or where to look. Anna had slipped back in the room, freshly showered and wearing yoga pants and a tank top. She stood by the doorway for a few moments before stepping up to Charlie. He was still writing, and she spoke quietly to him in French for a few minutes before he nodded and allowed her to take the marker out of his hands.

"We'll be back in half an hour," Anna said, taking Charlie by the hand and guiding him out the door. She closed it firmly behind her.

"Man," Colby said with a shake of his head.

Don glared at him before redirecting his glare at Jimmy Dean who was fuming over by the computer station.

"Leave it alone," Lauren admonished quietly.

"That's easy for you to say," Don said. "My brother looks like he's well on his way to a nervous breakdown."

"It's not like I don't care about Charlie," Jimmy Dean said irritably. "He's a very good friend. Sometimes things are more important."

"Nothing is more important than my brother," Don snapped in return.

Jimmy Dean shrugged at that, then nodded. "Right, well. We'll see."

"So has anyone figured out yet why we were shot at?" David asked, deciding that a change of topics would lessen the tension in the room a bit.

Jimmy Dean shook his head. "We're keeping an eye on the FBI investigation, but they're not making any headway so far as we can tell. We're actually starting to think this was maybe a set-up."

"A setup?" Don asked. "By who?"

"The FBI and CIA were investigating Charlie," Kate said carefully. "But they had no solid proof of anything. So they couldn't get warrants to search anything."

"You think the FBI shot up my house?" Don said incredulously.

Jimmy Dean shrugged again. "CIA, probably. They tend to have a lot of leeway in the way they operate. And anyway, it was obviously done in a way that ensured no injuries. Not unless there's regularly someone at the house who's 10 feet tall. They shot up your ceiling more than anything else. Now that your house is a crime scene, the FBI has full access. Of course, I don't know what exactly they were hoping to find."

"Evidence, maybe?" Don said with a snort.

"Yeah, except not," Kate said. "Charlie wasn't exactly hacking bank accounts from his living room couch."

"So there's no evidence?" Don asked. "Nothing they could arrest Charlie for?"

"Of course not," Jimmy Dean said dismissively. "First of all, what they're accusing him of, would need a pretty powerful computer system, which Charlie doesn't have. Now, he does have access to one, or to several, but the only one the FBI knows about is the one at CalSci, and Charlie is not exactly stupid enough to use a computer that is easily linked to him. Secondly, it would take a lot of planning, and coding, and hacking. Charlie doesn't have the time."

Don looked up at him and frowned slightly, then nodded. Jimmy Dean wasn't about to admit to anyone that it had been Charlie. Still, it was pretty hard to believe that the CIA or FBI was responsible for shooting up Charlie's house just to search his things. Don wasn't quite willing to believe that. He wasn't quite willing to believe anything Jimmy Dean said.

"So how do we fix it?" Colby asked. "How do we convince them that Charlie had nothing to do with it and to leave him – and us, alone? I mean, someone's following Marjolie around everywhere, is that the CIA too?"

"It's possible, but we don't know this for certain yet," Kate said. "Our head office is looking into getting Charlie cleared. We have contacts who will get in contact with some of the… people in charge?" Kate shrugged and smiled. "Because our organization operates outside of the government, we sometimes do run into problems like this. It just needs to go through channels, that's all."

"That's all?" Alan scoffed. "Really? And who exactly is going to clean up my house?"

Kate shrugged and looked over at Jimmy Dean. "I'm sure the FBI would be more than willing, once we get through with them."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Don asked.

Kate shrugged. "Nothing at all. They haven't been very polite though, wouldn't you say? Shooting at your family and friends. We'll have to repay that favour."

"Whatever it is you're planning, let's just be sure they were the ones who did this in the first place," Don said. "Which is something I'm not entirely convinced of. It's not how the FBI that I know operates. And I'd rather not know of any impending illegal activities."

"Who said it'd be illegal?" Jimmy Dean asked. "It's just going to be strongly-worded, is all. And yes, we're making sure first."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Charlie returned 45 minutes later, he seemed much calmer. He had showered and changed, and looked steady on his feet.

"I'm fine," he said to Don and Alan, who had both gotten to their feet.

"Did you sleep?" Alan asked with a worried frown.

"Yes," Charlie said with a nod, his eyes focused on the numbers on the wall. He picked up the marker, and stood far enough away from the wall so that he could see the entire series of numbers without having to move.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing and just watched as Charlie stared at the numbers. David and Colby had been engaged in a riveting chess match, and Alan had been reading.

Anna had come back in with Charlie, and she was speaking quietly with Jimmy Dean, who had relaxed somewhat in the last half hour, and was nodding along to what she was saying.

Charlie had walked up to the wall now, and was writing at a rapid pace. Don didn't even try to follow the numbers, and instead focused on Anna and Jimmy Dean, who were talking very seriously and very quietly. They were turned slightly away from everyone as well, so Don couldn't try to guess what they were saying. It was disconcerting.

The door opened and Michigan, who hadn't been seen since Charlie had been back, walked in. He joined the conversation with Anna and Jimmy Dean, and seemed to have good news for them, judging by the excited whispers and a congratulatory clap on the back from Jimmy Dean. Don watched and considered joining the conversation. He had a right to know what was going on, after all.

"What are you thinking?" Alan asked as he sat down beside Don.

"I'm thinking I'm out of my element," Don said wearily. "I'm thinking I have no idea what's happening, and I don't know how to fix what's happening. I'm used to fixing stuff, you know. I like being able to take charge and fix things. And I don't like where this is going. I don't like it that my government and the organization that I belong to seem to want to set Charlie up and are going about it in this way…" Don shrugged and shook his head.

"Did he do it?" Alan asked very seriously.

Don looked over at him sharply. "Do what?"

"The fraud case. They seem very determined to find evidence against him. Do they have a cause to behave this way? Are they right?"

"Dad…" Don said uncomfortably.

"So he did do it," Alan said with a nod.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say that he didn't." Alan looked at Charlie, who was still writing, though he seemed to have slowed down somewhat. He had circled a series of numbers and Kate was writing them down on a notepad. They looked like coordinates.

"You'll have to ask him, Dad," Don said, shaking his head. He really didn't want to be put in the middle of this.

"I will. When he's done."

"And what if he did do it?" Don asked carefully. He wanted to be prepared for whatever was going to happen. His mind was going over drastic consequences, but he hoped his father could be more forgiving than he himself had been.

"There would have been a reason," Alan said simply. "And I'm tired of the way we've been behaving the last few months. Something we're all guilty of, including Charlie. Whatever it takes, I want to fix it now. While we have the chance." He nodded toward Charlie, who had stopped writing and was in hurried conversation with Kate. He seemed uncertain about something, his eyes were still watching the numbers and he was shaking his head.

Don watched as Charlie picked up a different coloured marker and walked over to a specific series of numbers. He made a modification, which seemed to flow through the numbers that came after it, until he changed the coordinates that he had written down. Or at least Don thought they were coordinates.

"Are you sure?" Jimmy Dean asked, sounding slightly anxious.

"No," Charlie muttered.

Michigan had typed the coordinates into his computer and the map zoomed into the Pacific Ocean. The middle of the Pacific Ocean, it appeared. No where near land.

"I don't understand," Anna said, shaking her head and looking at the map, tilting her head slightly.

"Shipping lanes," Kate said suddenly. Michigan typed a few more commands into the computer and red lines began crossing the map, some directly with Charlie's coordinates.

"Patrolled by NATO ships," Jimmy Dean said thoughtfully. "And others, of course. International waters." He seemed to remember suddenly that they were not the only ones in the room. "Michigan, get on the phone, start calling." He turned to Don. "We need you guys to step out for a minute."

"Oh, come on," Colby protested. "This is just getting good!"

"Still," Jimmy Dean said apologetically.

"We're not leaving," Marjolie said stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at Jimmy Dean defiantly. "We've been here for days; we have a right to see some outcome."

"Fine," Jimmy Dean muttered irritably. "Just go way over there," he motioned to the conference table. "And don't say a word."

Everyone reluctantly complied. Colby eagerly maneuvered his chair to the very front of the table, and inched it as close as he could. Don wondered if maybe Colby wouldn't prefer working here, with these guys, as opposed to his team with the FBI. Colby liked action and he liked being a little bit sneaky.

Michigan had ceded his chair behind the computer to Anna, who had started typing. A large screen rolled down from the ceiling, partially covering Charlie's numbers. The screen divided into sections, each displaying live pictures of certain areas, some office interiors with empty desks. One an empty stretch of water. Don guessed that those were the coordinates. Everyone had donned headsets, and as Michigan continued calling people, the empty seats on the screen filled with people Don recognized from the news. Top members of the military, and not just those of the USA. Once each chair was filled – four in total, with several people standing behind each person – some sort of conference began. Anna had muted the people on the screen so that Don and the rest couldn't overhear. Don assumed everyone could hear them through their headsets. The conversation was quick and to the point. There was no argument. Everyone seemed to take the information for what it was, and didn't question whether it was correct.

Jimmy Dean did most of the talking on this end, and he spoke quietly enough that Don couldn't quite hear what was being said. He could pick out a few words: terrorists, explosives, shipping lanes, supply ships. And he could let his imagination fill in the rest of the blanks. Some of those ships out there carried thousands of people. Others carried valuable goods or devastating weapons. If any of those were targeted…

The conference ended twenty minutes after it began. The screen went blank and rolled back into the ceiling. Kate took a camera and took photographs of Charlie's work for documentation, then began to erase it.

"What happens now?" Colby asked eagerly. He had jumped out of his seat and was already across the room to ask Jimmy Dean.

"Now it's out of our hands," Jimmy Dean said with a casual shrug.

Colby seemed surprised. "You mean you're not going to go out there?"

"Nope. Our job was to retrieve the code. And really, that only happened by chance. We've passed on our knowledge, and what they choose to do with that knowledge is up to them."

"How will you know you've succeeded?" Marjolie asked.

"Watch the news," Charlie said wryly from his position on the couch. "If nothing happens, then we were right. If something does happen, I was wrong."

"We were wrong," Kate corrected with a disapproving shake of her head.

Charlie shrugged. "Same difference." He stood and left the room.

Don watched him go in surprise, then turned back to Kate, who shook her head and sighed.

"He has a hard time not knowing," she said. "And a hard time waiting. He feels responsible if it goes wrong."

"Can't really blame him," Lauren said, slowly walking over. "That's a lot of pressure."

"It's his job," Jimmy Dean said.

"I should check on him," Alan said with a worried glance toward the door.

"He'll be sleeping," Anna said, her eyes glued to her computer screen. "He always sleeps after."

"So I should do nothing," Alan said, sounding frustrated.

"Yes, you should give him space," Anna said.

Alan threw his hands up in frustration and sat down in a nearby chair.

"The good news is that you can all go home," Kate said cheerfully. "Michigan arranged it for you."

"What? What do you mean?" Don asked incredulously.

"I spoke to some people," Michigan said somewhat sheepishly. "And they spoke to some of your people, and they dropped the investigation into Charlie. So you should be ok now."

"Should be?" Don asked suspiciously.

"Well… No one is willing to take responsibility for shooting up your house," Michigan admitted. "Though they do admit to searching it thoroughly after the fact and taking a lot of 'evidence' with them for further processing. All of which will be returned, of course. Anyway, we'll watch the house for a little while, just to be sure."

"What about me?" Marjolie demanded.

"That was the FBI," Michigan said. "They checked into Charlie's finances. Your name came up. They won't bother you anymore."

"Oh," Marjolie said. "Alright, I guess I'll go pack up my things."

The others agreed and went to their rooms to gather their things.

Don stayed behind. "So you and I both know Charlie was responsible for the fraud case," he began.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jimmy Dean said smoothly, arms folded across his chest.

"Yes, you do," Don snapped in return. "I just want to make sure no one is going to take the fall for this. You're not going to pin this on someone else."

"It won't be pinned on anybody," Jimmy Dean replied.

"Good." Don stared at him a moment and then sighed. "I just want to know what it's all supposed to accomplish," he said with a shake of his head.

"What?" Jimmy Dean asked.

"This back and forth. A few months ago you handed them a couple of million dollars. This month you're stopping a terrorist attack, that you probably helped fund. I don't get it."

"You're right, you don't get it," Jimmy Dean said defensively.

"So explain it."

"I can't. It not black-and-white, it's not simple. And even if I did explain, it doesn't really make sense. It doesn't make sense to me, and I've been doing this for a really long time. This is just what we do."

"I don't like it."

"That's fine."

"So we're free to go?" Don asked, looking around at the four people in the room, all of whom were watching the computer screen Anna was sitting behind.

"Yes," Jimmy Dean said, nodding. "Look, I know you're frustrated. I know you're probably angry. It's just… It's just how it has to be done. And you're right, it's stupid. But it's also our jobs. And Charlie certainly doesn't need to be told that he funded a terrorist organization on purpose. He's well aware, and we're trying to fix it, but that takes time. I think you can understand, with your job, that sometimes you have to do something you really don't want to do, to someone who really doesn't deserve it."

Don nodded. He could understand that.

"So, I guess I'm saying… We're taking care of it. It's not like we just washed our hands of it and said, here's the money, have a nice day. We're working on a way to fix it."

"Ok," Don said with a nod. "Ok, I just want to make sure someone doesn't take the fall for it, I guess. And I also don't want Charlie to take the fall for it, so don't think that that's where I was going."

"I didn't."

"Good."

"Good."

"I'll go pack my things then. Charlie's coming home too?"

"We'll be home tonight," Anna said with a friendly smile from her computer. "Tomorrow at the latest. We just have a couple of things to finish here, and I want to let Charlie sleep."

"Ok." Don said, walking to the door and leaving the room. He was beginning to see that he wasn't ever going to get any sort of answers to the things Charlie was doing with these people, but he was getting a fairly clear picture. And for now, he would have to support his brother, no matter what.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Don walked into the house and surveyed the damage. Almost everything had been swept up and vacuumed away at some point when they were gone, and the only evidence that someone had shot up the house were the holes in the walls and ceiling, and the missing decorations that had been too damaged to save.

Alan walked in behind Don and ran his hands along some of the damaged walls. "This is going to take a lot of work to fix up," Alan said with a shake of his head.

"Yeah," Don agreed, standing in the middle of the living room and shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid touching each and every bullet hole. "Charlie and I will help."

"So will I," Lauren said, picking up the duffel bag Don had dropped by the door and heading for the stairs. "Either of you mind if I take a long shower?"

"Nope," Don said absentmindedly, slowly drifting toward the kitchen to check for damage there. He wanted to check every room for missing items and damage. Who knew if the FBI had returned everything they said they took?

The answering machine displayed 6 waiting messages, but Don didn't want to have to listen to them, so he ignored it and opened the fridge instead.

"We'll have to go grocery shopping," he informed his father, who was still in the living room cataloging their missing belongings.

"Among other things," Alan informed him. "Do you suppose insurance will cover this? There's a lot of things that will need to be replaced. All these picture frames…"

"I'll call them tomorrow," Don said. "Or maybe Charlie should call them. It's his house, his insurance." He wandered back to the living room and eyed the front window, which had been boarded up with a sheet of plywood. "I'll stop by the hardware store first thing tomorrow, I think. Get a new window. We should be able to replace that ourselves, or should we call someone? Are there any rules about Craftsmans and new windows? Or Craftsmans and bullet holes?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't know. Let's leave all this until tomorrow. It's overwhelming at the moment."

Don looked at his father with some worry. "Are you alright? You look tired…"

"Its been a long couple of days," Alan reminded him. "But I'm glad to be home. And I'm glad that everything has worked out."

Don nodded and turned the tv on, switching the channel to CNN. He muted the sound and wearily sank down in a chair.

"You would think we'd be well-rested after a few days of doing nothing," Alan said, sitting down as well.

"That's always more tiring than being busy for a few days non-stop," Don said. "For me anyway." He glanced at the clock that hung unscathed on the wall. 11pm.

"Do you suppose we'll ever see any of those people again?" Alan asked.

"I hope not," Don said. "No offense to them, of course. I think we'd only see them again if Charlie's in trouble, and I'd rather that didn't happen again."

Alan nodded, then stood. "I'm heading up to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and Charlie should be home too, so we'll have to have a long talk, the three of us. A serious talk."

Don nodded and was already dreading it.

* * *

The next morning Don wandered downstairs at 9 in the morning, and found Charlie and Anna sitting on the couch, quietly conversing in French. The TV was on again, muted and on a 24 hour news channel.

"Morning," Don said, hiding his surprise.

"Morning," Charlie and Anna said at the same time. They looked at each other for a moment before Charlie rolled his eyes and Anna laughed.

"Ok then," Don said, trudging into the kitchen to hunt for some coffee and breakfast. He was beginning to think he should have stopped by a convenience store the night before to at least get some breakfast foods.

He was pleasantly surprised to find coffee ready and take-out bagels on the counter.

"Help yourself!" Charlie called from the living room.

"Thanks," Don muttered a little more quietly to avoid waking anyone up who might still be sleeping. He had heard the shower on though, so he figured his father at least was already awake. Lauren was still blissfully asleep.

Don headed back to the living room with a mug of coffee and his bagel. He sat down across from Anna and Charlie.

"So, no news?" Don asked, nodding once toward the tv.

"Nope," Charlie said with a pleased smile. "Except the ridiculous campaigning. Hence the mute."

Don nodded and took a bite of his bagel. "When'd you get here?"

"Hour ago or so."

Don nodded. "Didn't hear you."

"We were quiet."

"How are things?"

"Fine."

"Dad should be down soon."

"Good, we need to talk."

"Yeah, we do," Don agreed. "You're helping me fix this, you know," he said, motioning toward the damaged walls.

Charlie made a face at that. "I figured I'd just call someone. The professionals should know about the restoration rules and all that. I don't really have the time."

"Make the time," Don said. "Dad won't be pleased if you ditch out on us."

"I didn't say I was ditching out," Charlie said, a defensive note creeping into his voice. "I'm just saying it might be better to call the professionals, that's all."

"Professionals to do what?" Alan asked as he came down the stairs. "Good morning, everyone."

"Morning," everyone murmured in reply.

"Professionals to fix the house," Charlie said after a few moments of silence.

Alan nodded and stood by the door to the kitchen for a moment. "That might be a good idea, for some of the bigger things," he said. "But for the small things, we should be able to do that ourselves. Call the insurance people first, though. See what they say."

Charlie shrugged and nodded, throwing a slightly victorious glare in Don's direction.

Don rolled his eyes at that. Alan had sided with him after all, it was nothing Charlie needed to feel good about.

Alan had gone into the kitchen to get breakfast, and came out a moment later with bagel and coffee in hand. "This is really a very good bakery," Alan commented. "This is the same place Michigan was getting us lunch from. Wonderful bread."

They were all silent for a few minutes, eyes watching the TV just for something to look at.

"You would think they'd run out of things to campaign about," Charlie muttered after a while. "It's not like any of them ever keep their promises. And really, what makes anyone think I care about who whatever celebrity is voting for?"

"Want to guess how many people are going to base their votes on that?" Don asked wryly.

"That would just be depressing," Charlie decided.

Alan reached for the remote and switched the television off. "Let's not put this off any longer," he decided. "Anna, would you mind excusing us? Don and Charlie and I have some things to discuss."

"I have some errands to run," Anna said agreeably. "I'll be back in a few hours." She picked up her purse and headed out the door.

Charlie crossed his arms and looked at Alan expectantly. Already looking defensive, Don thought.

"You were shot the last time you disappeared," Alan began.

Charlie leveled a deadly glare at Don, who chose that moment to inspect a scratch in the chair he was sitting in.

"That was a long time ago," Charlie said, still trying to make some eye-contact with Don, who was now looking up at the ceiling. "And I only disappeared one time."

"You were gone this time too," Alan said. "And we didn't know where you were."

"Sometimes I don't know where you are," Charlie countered, giving up on Don and instead staring moodily at the coffee table.

"That is a different situation," Alan said.

"How so?"

"It's not life-or-death, for one thing," Don said.

"I don't know that at the time," Charlie said with a shrug. "And really, neither was this."

Alan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Charlie who squirmed in his seat a little before relenting. "Ok, fine. It's not the same thing. I don't know what either of you expect from me."

"How about just letting us know you're ok?" Don asked.

"And what if I'm not?"

"Then let us know that too," Alan said. "It's not too much to ask, Charlie, so don't try and argue that point. Anna is a good enough hacker to send an encrypted email to Don, or to bounce a phone signal through a million satellites to call me. And you're more than smart enough to figure out a way if Anna isn't around to do that."

Charlie nodded. "Fair enough. But can you both please be aware that you can't always be my first priority. Sometimes I need to do something else that's really important before I can call you and tell you where I am."

"That's fair," Alan agreed. "If we're talking about a day. Not if we're talking about eight months."

Charlie nodded and shrugged. "Alright."

"Good. Now, let's talk about the house," Alan said determinedly.

"Yeah, that's something I wanted to talk to you both about," Charlie said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Anna and I were thinking, or we've been talking…" He sighed and shrugged. "We're moving."

"Moving?" Don exclaimed. "Where?"

"Southern France," Charlie said.

"You're selling the house?" Alan asked.

"Well, no. I thought you or Don, or both of you, could just stay here and look after it," Charlie said. "I mean, I can sell it, if you don't want to do that, but… I just thought…" He shrugged again, eyes firmly on the coffee table. He looked up finally and at Don.

"Why are you moving to France?" Don demanded.

"I speak French, and so does Anna, and I've been offered a few jobs at universities, I just thought I'd be easier."

"Easier for what?" Don asked.

Charlie shrugged again. "Things around here haven't really been… I don't know… comfortable? And Anna was worried about you guys not liking her that much, so she wanted to get her own place, which I didn't want, I want her to stay with me. And then she was offered a job in Marseilles, and we thought…" He sighed. "I thought that would be ok for everyone."

"Well it's not," Don snapped. "Why didn't you just say so instead of deciding to move to Europe?"

"Because it's been three months, and we tried it out, and that was long enough, and anyways, I was getting really annoyed with the both of you."

"_You _were annoyed with _us_?" Don demanded incredulously. "You're the one who disappeared for eight months."

"Oh would you drop that already?" Charlie exclaimed. "I have explained what I can, and I've apologized about it, but you both keep insisting on bringing it up every damn five minutes! _Let it go_. It's like I'm not allowed to do anything around here, because I disappeared, blah blah blah. At least when I'm in France I can hang up the phone."

"Oh well that's just great then," Don muttered.

"Ok, both of you, stop for a moment," Alan said. "Charlie, have you and Anna finalized your decision to move to France, or is there still an opportunity to change your minds?"

"We haven't quite agreed to the job offers yet," Charlie admitted. "We were thinking of just going on vacation for a few months before settling somewhere, and we haven't looked at houses or anything yet."

"Good. I'm not going to say you can't go to France," Alan said, silencing Don's protest with a wave of his hand. "But I don't want the two of you to leave the country with the idea that we don't want you here."

"That's not what we thought," Charlie said. "We just thought a little more space between us…"

"Yeah, space, not an _ocean_," Don said.

"Don," Alan said. "Please."

"Fine," Don muttered. "Let him go to France."

Charlie threw his hands up exasperatingly. "What? You want me to stay here?"

"Yes," Don exclaimed. "Of course! What do you suppose?"

"Obviously I _supposed_ you didn't," Charlie snapped in return. "It's not just my decision anyway."

"But you'll at least rethink it," Alan said. "Don and I have both realized we have been a bit harsh on you and Anna both. We'd like the chance to rectify that."

Charlie nodded. "Alright. We'll talk about it."

"Good," Alan said with a nod.

"So that's it?" Charlie asked.

"Did you have something else you wanted discussed?" Alan asked.

"No, not really. I think that about covers it."

"Good. Go call the insurance company so we can get the repairs started."

Charlie rolled his eyes at that. "Alright, alright. But I'm telling you we're hiring someone to do the repairs. I'm not doing it myself."

"We'll see about that," Don said with a slight grin as Charlie headed for the kitchen.

THE END.

So, that's it for this one... I don't know if there will be more from me, but thanks all for reading and for your great reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

EPILOGUE

Charlie stared up at the ceiling and watched the lights of the cars that passed his hotel. His room was on the second floor, and he had left the curtains slightly open. It was 3:30 in the morning, and he was wide awake for some reason. His restless mind couldn't help trying to calculate the speed of the cars by the light that crossed the ceiling, and Charlie rolled over and buried his head under his pillow in frustration. He was never going to get to sleep this way.

It had been a month and a half since the house had been shot up, and things between Alan, Don and himself had improved a great deal. They had worked together to fix up the house, and the hours spent fixing the walls and furniture had meant a lot of time for conversation, from serious topics like some of the things Charlie had done with the IIC, to the latest baseball games. Charlie had come to realize that he had been at fault for a lot of the tension in the house, despite Alan's insistence that it had been his fault. If he had only been truthful with Alan in the first place, it wouldn't have escalated to the point it had. And if he'd only called Don or Alan at some point when he'd been away for those eight months, it wouldn't have escalated to any point at all.

At the time he thought he'd done the right thing, that it would be safer if he just completely disappeared, for himself as well as Don and Alan.

Many of Alan and Don's problems with Anna stemmed from the same place; she had just randomly showed up one day, and Alan at least never got a proper explanation of who she was, how she and Charlie knew each other, and what she did for a living, except that she was a hacker. Anna in turn didn't always feel very comfortable around the two of them, and that had only made things worse. She was naturally shy, and it took her time to open up to anyone and have a conversation with them, and she confessed to Charlie that she had probably often been unintentionally rude to both Alan and Don. It hadn't helped that she and Charlie had taken to speaking French a lot. Now they consciously spoke English in the house, unless they were discussing something that really couldn't be talked about in front of anyone else, then they switched to French. Lately, however, Anna and Alan had started spending some time together. Anna was a pretty good cook, and often she and Alan could be found in the kitchen together, experimenting with recipes, or off on a trip to the local market.

Charlie had been in Berlin for three days, and would be flying back home the next day. It had been three days of endless meetings and discussion, and he had made sure to take at least 10 minutes out of the day to call home and let everyone know he was ok.

Anna was in Belgium visiting family, and Charlie found himself missing her beside him at night. He hadn't slept properly since she'd left two weeks ago, and he probably wouldn't sleep properly until she came back two weeks from now. He debated for a few moments cancelling his flight home and taking the train to Belgium to see her for a day or two, but knew she would not appreciate that. They had both decided to spend a little bit of time apart, just because they had spent nearly every moment together for the past year, ever since their time in South Africa. Time apart would be good for them both, and Charlie knew that was right, but he couldn't help wanting her with him. And that was frustrating, because he hated being clingy. He'd been working very hard to become more independent, and this was not helping.

With a sigh, Charlie sat up and grabbed his laptop. If he wasn't going to sleep, he was at least going to beat his Minesweeper record.

Before he could get his laptop turned on, however, his cell rang, and he picked it up in relief. "Hello?"

"Charlie? Hey, it's Don." Don sounded cheerful and relaxed on the other end, and Charlie looked at the clock in confusion. It really was 3:45am, wasn't it?

"Don? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Don said, sounding surprised. There was a moment of silence. "Oh, dammit, the time difference. Sorry Charlie."

"That's alright," Charlie said in relief. "I just thought something was wrong for you to be calling me now. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"You're sure? I can call back…"

"No, no. It's fine."

"You're still coming home tomorrow, right?" Don asked.

"That's the plan," Charlie confirmed. "You're still picking me up at the airport?"

"Yep, that's the plan," Don said cheerfully. "So, guess what? We solved the case."

"The kidnapping case?" Charlie asked. Don and his team had been working non-stop on the case of a 5-year-old boy who had been kidnapped by his non-custodial father. His mother was a federal judge, which was why the FBI had been involved.

"Yeah, found him in Florida."

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed. "Everyone is fine then?"

"Yep, dropped the kid of with his mother and hauled the father off to jail. No injuries, no visible trauma. The kid just thought he was on vacation."

"That's great."

"Yeah, I just thought I'd let you know since you helped us out with the location algorithm and all."

Charlie laughed. "I'm pretty sure my algorithm was no where near Florida."

Don couldn't help but laugh as well. "No, I guess not. Completely wrong, actually, but we were missing some pretty crucial information."

"Like what?"

"He has a brother in Florida."

"Oh. Well, that'll do it, I guess."

"So, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Ok?"

"There's a house a few streets down that's just come up for sale. It's a bit of a fixer-upper, needs lots of work, but I should be able to get it at a good price. Lauren and I were thinking of buying it."

"That's… that's a great idea," Charlie said excitedly.

"You think so? You won't mind if we move out? It might be a bit short-notice, so I wasn't sure…"

"Don't worry about me," Charlie said with a laugh. "You'll still be close enough if I need help fixing something."

"Good. Excellent." Don sounded relieved, and Charlie couldn't help but wonder why his brother was so worried about his reaction to him moving out.

"Why were you so worried about that?" Charlie asked.

"I just thought…things have been pretty great lately. I didn't want you to think that I didn't want to be around anymore, y'know? I do, it's just, it's a bit crowded in the house with the five of us, and I thought I should take the chance while I have it. Houses don't come up for sale in this neighbourhood very often, and if they do they'd probably be way outside my price-range."

"Have you put a bid on it yet?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Don said excitedly. "And they've accepted it, so it's a go, pending the usual. Closing date is in three weeks."

"That's quick," Charlie said in surprise. "But I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Yeah, I think I might not move in right away, though," Don said. "I want to do a lot of the fixing first. The floors need to be replaced. It's got this horrible carpet from like, the sixties, and the walls need to be redone. It'll be a lot of work."

"I can help," Charlie offered.

Don snorted in laughter. "Yeah, I've been witness to your carpentry skills, buddy."

"Hey," Charlie exclaimed in mock anger.

"I'm kidding," Don said. "I would appreciate your help. Which reminds me. Jane MacRooney emailed you something she'd like you to look at."

"Yeah, I saw it. I just haven't opened it yet. It's been hectic around here. I'll try to look at it on the plane. I've already downloaded the attachment to my computer, so… I'll have a few hours to kill anyway."

"Great, I'll let her know. Anna still in Belgium?"

"Yeah."

"Still resisting the urge to go see her?"

"Barely," Charlie muttered. "This is so stupid."

Don laughed. "Anything else come up since yesterday?"

"No," Charlie said. "Nothing you'd want to know about anyway. I just had an endless meeting with people from the World Bank. Talking about loans, food supplies and climate. And I'm probably going to come back in a month or so for more meetings. Zurich, this time."

"Is there any country you haven't been to yet?" Don teased.

Charlie shrugged. "Trust me, much as I love Europe, I would rather do this from home. There is such a thing as too much travel, you know."

"I guess I can understand," Don said. "When I was in fugitive recovery, we'd often spend a lot of time on the road, and after a while I'd want nothing more than to just go home to my own place, my own bed, my own shower…"

"Exactly."

"Anyway, so plane lands at 6?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I'll see you then. Call me if anything changes."

"Will do. See you tomorrow."

The End

Ok, ok, you've wrangled an epilogue out of me. Enjoy. : )


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